


The exquisite art of abridging distance

by aliciawillromance



Category: The Good Wife (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-21 06:30:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3681525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliciawillromance/pseuds/aliciawillromance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because the Kings can't write smut and someone had to fix it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In the absence of body

**A/N: Yup, this is exactly what you think it is. Rated M for obvious reasons and I'm not sorry for what I did! :D Thanks to Chrissie for the beta work! 3**

**Set around 3x08 (let's pretend we haven't noticed the huge timeline fail because… 2013… really, writers?….)**

* * *

She has been meandering aimlessly around her apartment for a good fifteen minutes. All the laundry done, she ended up cleaning the whole apartment and drinking two glasses of wine while waiting for  _that_  call.

Will is in New York again, this time without her. And as much as she knows that she has no reason – let alone right – to be jealous, she is nonetheless. A slight possessiveness and a natural tendency to exclusivity makes it hard to constraint their complicated relationship to what it was initially supposed to be. Only a few days ago he asked her if they should pause. The thought she spared to the idea was feebler than the excuses she tried to collate in favor of common sense. She is well aware that it's getting complicated, that they crossed the it's-time-to-stop-this line a few dozens of encounters ago. But the feeling of him is everywhere. In her mind, her dreams, in every neuron that traverses her body. And the farther he is, the more the need for him seems to intensify.

When the ringing of her phone pulls her back startlingly from her thoughts, a quiver of excitement, a tingle of anticipation, rouses her, shaking her inside. For a long moment, she can't breathe. She doesn't have to check the id. She feels it. She feels him. And her heart, suddenly throbbing uncontrollably, almost makes her dizzy.

She forces herself to breathe again, then clears her throat to conceal the adrenaline. "Hello…"

"Hi," is all he says.

She can feel him swallow and it's hard to say if for the same electricity that's keeping her in a constant, restless motion, or for an attempt to drown the same in a loosening gulp of whisky. She hates and loves the fact that she can't see him. She can close her eyes and picture him however pleases her. She can almost smell his cologne. Almost.

"Hi," she answers, her voice a good octave higher than she intends it, then rolls her eyes at herself for letting her hormonal turmoil take over. "How are things going there?" she asks, a bit for interest, a bit in a lame attempt to make some small talk. She sits on her couch, then takes the glass of wine from the coffee table. She's glad she's been farsighted enough to pour it before the call, because whilst it's the third glass of the night it still doesn't feel enough to do  _this_.

"Looking good, we might have a lot to celebrate when I'm back…" he hints, a suggestive inflection in the tone of this voice that makes her heart skip a beat and fold her legs with sensual slowness. And her mind starts projecting a few ways in which they might celebrate. None of those is politically correct, or remotely decent.

"That sounds… promising…" It makes her miss his presence even more. "So when are you going to be back?"

"Sunday night," he responds with a resigned sigh.

This means they won't see each other until Monday. What a huge disappointment. A weekend alone. A whole weekend doing what she keeps claiming she does in front of her kids; seeing phantom friends, working on cases, maybe calling Owen if she really gets desperate. "Leaving me alone for the whole weekend? You will need to make sure those celebrations are more than just worth it," she reproaches him flirtatiously, then takes a small sip of wine.

Will sighs, something that sounds like a suffocated chuckle. "I'll make sure they are…" The silence that follows is charged with too many things they both feel but will probably never dare to voice. Words of need, of longing, of… "I miss you."

"I miss you too."  _You. Your presence. Every part of your body._  She closes her eyes to better visualize him. "So… what are you doing all alone in that hotel room?"

Will snuffles, imperceptibly. "How do you know I'm in a hotel room right now?"

"Because you wouldn't want to have this conversation anywhere else?" she suggests, knowing but  _not exactly_   _knowing_  what will happen next.

"Touché," he laughs softly and she can't help laughing, too.

"So… what do you miss of me, exactly, Mr. Gardner?" she teases him.

"What do I miss of you? Uhmmm. Well… the way you are probably biting that lovely bottom lip of yours right now," he starts.

Alicia smiles, then raises a brow, pleased, as she releases the tortured lip from the grip of her teeth. "That's all?" she asks in feigned offense.

Will chuckles but doesn't add anything more. Instead…"Your turn now. What do you miss of me?"

She thinks for a moment, closes her eyes to see him in front of her. "The way you do that serious, almost uninterested look, while I can see that sly smile betraying you from here."

"Really? And what would my sly smile be saying?" he questions, playing along with fake naiveté.

She thinks what to answer, how to surprise him, because if they are going to do this thing, she wants to do it right. "That you'd love to run all the bases?"

"Look at you and the sports metaphors," Will observes, approval seeping through his surprised tone. "We should play this game more often."

"I'm sure this would top every possible football match," she whets his appetite.

"You still have to prove it," he reminds her.

Alicia absorbs his words and his not so subtle invitation to lead the game. She stares down at her outfit, thinking of what there's hidden beneath her dress. "I'm wearing that red corset."

She listens to the dazed silence on the other end, can see his cold sweat as he unlooses his tie – and it doesn't really matter if he's not wearing any right now.

" _That_  one?" he asks. Unnecessarily, Alicia thinks. His reaction tells her that he remembers very well.

"Yep."

Will groans, then clears his throat. "This is pure torture."

"I'm just playing," she singsongs. She still can't say who suggested this, nor how they actually ended up agreeing to do it. But she's definitely starting to enjoy it. If there's something they both excel in, that's torturing and tantalizing each other.

"You sure know the rules," he notices.

Are there even rules? Or is it just something that happens casually? "Now what?"

Will heaves a sigh, probably pondering where to take this next. She imagines him; tilting back his head, closing his eyes. "Take everything off, just leave the corset."

 _Not wasting any time there_ … "How will you know that I really did it?" she teases him.

"I know you enough to know that you want to do it."

That's one nice answer. And the utter truth. She nods but doesn't say a word. A few seconds pass, enough for her dress to slide down to the floor, no more needed. She had considered changing into something more comfortable, but then chose against it. She felt much sexier and ready for this with something elegant on her skin. Left semi-naked, she peeps around and feels a bit ridiculous to do this thing in the middle of the living room, completely alone, so she moves to the comfort of her bedroom. She locks the door, even if there's no one else besides  _them_. It's a habit. "Okay. I did it. Corset and G-string. But now you will have to do the same…" It seems just about fair.

"Shall I leave the corset too?" Will jokes, and somehow his words, instead of ruining the excitement of the moment, manage to dissipate that bit of awkwardness, of light discomfort, that still remained.

She laughs out loud. "So, boxers or briefs?"

"Boxers," is his amused reply.

Alicia thinks, or pretends to think, then grants him the due parity. "Okay, you can keep them, for now… everything else goes. And don't cheat."

A dull sound gives away that he has laid his phone, just for a moment, just to get rid of everything he's wearing. "Okay done."

 _He's fast_. Definitely no tie, let alone buttons to undo, Alicia notices, as she lays down on the bed, one hand holding the phone to her ear, the other loose above her head, then closes her eyes for a moment. A shiver of cold runs down her spine. Will is there but he isn't really there and in no way this can be the same as the pleasantness of the heat of his body covering hers, of him filling her, inch by inch, with his ever passionate need. In no way this equals the feeling of him move inside and outside of her. She opens her eyes wide as she suffocates an unexpected gasp. She wonders if Will has heard it too.

"What are you thinking?" he asks in a whisper.

She could lie, she could keep playing her part in the game, but the truth sounds far better. "That I wish you were really here. That it's…  _cold_ … without you… You?"

These silences sound different than they usually do, almost filled with a longing that shouldn't be there. In the end it's only a few days but right now they look like an abyss.

"Same," he finally speaks. "I'm in the same hotel as  _last time_."

A smile is on her lips before she realizes it, the images from that time still bright in her mind. "Uhmmm."

"That night was…" Will starts, then halts, probably lacking the best way to define it.

"… special," she finishes for him.

"Yes, special…"

Bits of that night flash in front of her. Will's words. The view from the balcony. Her absolute state of bliss. "What would you do, if I was there with you, now?"

"What would I do?" Will repeats her question, then takes time to think. "First, I'd take you in my lap and kiss you, right behind your ear, you know, on that special spot that gives you the goosebumps every time. I love that light quiver you do, how you tilt your head to one side and… abandon yourself. Then I'd move down, kissing all the way, from your neck, slowly, sucking your skin, down to your chest. I'd take the laces of the corset in my teeth and pull, until it opens and frees your beautiful breasts."

Her breath is uneven, hurried. She feels like she's about to hyperventilate, but she refuses to open her eyes, not just yet. She doesn't want to break the spell. Because even if he's far away, she can feel him, and it's so intense. She can feel his mouth, she can feel his lips on her. Without realizing it, her hands are pulling on the lace, undoing the small satin ribbon, as his voice continues his trip down her body and into her sensations.

"You're here with me, aren't you?" Will whispers.

"Yes," she barely manages to emit a sound. "You haven't used your hands yet…"

"We have time for it… I haven't finished my journey yet…" he teases her, and it's almost unbearable.

Too much but not enough at the same time. It drives her crazy. "And where else would you want to go?" she invites him to go further on.

"I'd trace a slow path all along your stomach, then stop right at the hem, where the corset ends and that sexy though extremely annoying G-string begins."

She can hear her own chuckle ring in the room. "Want me to remove it?"

"Yes," he affirms, and there isn't even one small bit of hesitation in his voice.

And she obeys, slightly bending her hips to get free of the tiny fabric. "Done. Your way is free now," she jokes with faux annoyance.

"Much better now… I can almost smell your desire. It's piercing, and so..."

Her thighs tightens, as her inner muscles suddenly clench in an involuntary spasm.  _Dammit_. "Will…"

"Not yet," he interrupts her. He's still making his way down, his voice placing soft kisses, licking and sucking, on her slender, silky thighs, on her thin and sculptured calves, down to her feet and back up, until it finally lingers on parts of her body that were concealed only instants ago.

Her scream resounds in the silence. Her eyes open wide to the view of her ceiling. Her body is trembling and she's not exactly sure it's for the cold.

This was…

Intense.

Unexpected.

Pleasing in a way she didn't know yet.

On the other end of the line, Will is smiling. She can perceive it. She can see his satisfied smirk.

Later that night, the smile hasn't disappeared yet from her lips. She opens her laptop, flashes of his guiding voice still dancing in front of her. It was weird, yet fantastic in every possible way. But who is she kidding?

As she stares at the empty side of her bed, a few words form in her head and quickly become typed word of an email.

_I can't stand it… phone sex isn't enough…_

Because it's not the sex she's missing. It's  _him_.


	2. Fulfillment of promises

When she stops in front of his office that Monday morning, a pang of disappointment pierces her heart as her eyes linger on his empty chair. With discretion, she checks his desk and the hanger. When she catches sight of his dark-gray coat, a glowing smirk enlivens her face, for he's definitely around.

"Looking for someone?"

The familiar voice gives her a thrill. She can feel her cheeks burn and is suddenly grateful to whoever invented the blusher. She watches as he takes a few notes from his secretary but doesn't read them. "So, how was New York?" she teases him, her voice husky, low just enough for only him to hear.

He smiles and checks out on her discreetly as he brushes by, invisible sparks given off as their arms touch. "Interesting," is his answer as he walks into his office and invites her in.

"Only interesting?" She closes the door behind them, then sits in front of him, inwardly patting herself for the outfit she chose to wear today. The black dress, square necked and enhanced by a thin white band right below her breasts, hugs her curves splendidly, and the tiny slit on the front of its skirt, nearly impossible to catch as she stands, doesn't pass unnoticed by its exclusive beneficiary.

"It was some hard work," Will mutters, with a seriousness that looks  _almost_  real. His gaze shifts casually between her and the notes in his hand, then lingers on one slip of paper as he tosses out, "waiting to enjoy its fruits."

"Fruits, uh?" She raises a brow and nods, as an impish smile appears on her face. "I'm sure they're going to be… juicy…"

"I have no doubt about it." This time his eyes are fixed on hers, intently, assertive and not devoid of a smidgen of provocation.

And she can already catch a glimpse of what her lunch break will look like.

A decided knock on Will's door butts into her reverie, dragging her back to the glass-walled reality of the L&G offices. She straightens up on her seat and pulls out the soberest look as behind her she hears Diane's voice reminding Will of the upcoming meeting. She lifts her gaze, just enough to read in his covert smile the confirmation they are going to meet later. Usual place. Usual time. Except that the text she receives from him minutes later changes the location.

_My place_.

His place. Scenery of long weekends and impromptu escapes, of blazing needs and romantic surges. No matter the instance, for her it always feels special to meet there.

It's definitely no exception this time, as she's welcomed by starving lips that for too long a time haven't touched hers. Pinned against his front door, she indulges in the taste of his tongue, warm and demanding and gives in to the delight of their physical reconnection. Only when they part, intoxicated and in need for air, do their gazes really meet. No facades, no cheerful flirtation, just the disarming bluntness of their emotions.

She remembers the quiet admission as they spoke on the phone last, and this time she's the one daring to express it first. "I missed you." It's barely a whisper, superfluous words, yet intimidating at once; in the awareness that even only a few days apart have become unbearable, in the untamable wandering of her mind, which alights on him whenever set free. And a bit scary in the uncertainty of his feelings. Or possible lack of.

"I missed you, too." His words reach her softly blown in her ears, it makes her weak to her knees and she's sure he knows it.

His eyes linger on her face, on the fascinating moss-green of her eyes, on the way her brows frame them, on her round lips, stained with what is left of her ruby lipstick, before slowly moving down to rest on her décolletage.

She smirks, gratified with the way he worships her charms, then feels his hands on her arms, gently removing her coat. As they peck their way to the bedroom, all garments drop on the floor, one by one, like toy soldiers. By the time she lands on his mattress, only one thing is still left on her body, something that's meant to remind him of his words. "You promised you'd make this worth," she refreshes his memory, although unnecessarily, for the way he's staring at her in the red corset already speaks volumes. "You have roughly one hour to amaze me," she challenges him.

"I always keep my promises, don't I?" He takes up the invitation, with a glint in his eyes. And if there's one thing she can grant him, is that yes, he always does.

With frustrating slowness, he starts to place gentle kisses, nibbling lightly; from her lobe, then further down until the lace of the corset halts his journey. Under his lips, she feels like melted ice.

When he wordlessly gestures for her to turn around, she asks no questions. Lying on her belly, she can feel his confident hands undo the corset, exposing the skin of her back. Eyes shut close, her breath is shallow, uneven in anticipation. She can feel the warmth of his body barely touching hers. Then, the familiar breathing, right behind her ear. She shivers, as one single kiss lands there first, followed by a delicate nibbling. The contrast between the comforting warmth of his lips and the sharp assault of his teeth, as he makes his way down her back, is explosive, whipping every cell of her body up into a frenzy of excitement.

His hands slide down her silhouette, as his mouth indulges on her butt. She can't help smiling at the image. Will never really made a secret that this has always been his more treasured part of her body. She contracts her muscles, just to juice it up, but immediately regrets it when her revolt is punished with a more decided bite.

"Ouch, that was rude," she chuckles.

"Patience doesn't live in that sweet head of yours, does it?" he reproaches her playfully.

"Head should be the last of the things involved in what we are doing right now," she points out with a teasing tone, and as she feels the trail of his kisses moving further down, her legs open a bit wider in an unconscious gesture, hopeful albeit perfectly aware that she's not leading the game. And when he skips  _that_  part of her body, altogether, she struggles to hold back a disappointed groan.

Before she can think of what will come next, Will's arm is grasping her waist and flipping her over on her back. For a long moment, their mouths are only inches away, and when he leans down to close the little distance, she doesn't miss out on the occasion. Her teeth tighten mischievously around his bottom lip and pull gently, making him moan in what sounds more like pleasure than disapproval. But this time, there is no retaliation from his side. Instead, he chuckles and nods slightly, definitely aware that he asked for it, then gazes at her, intently for a while. It's a look she knows well, the look she missed when only days before they  _experimented_.

Still, she asks, "What?" just because she adores the way he smiles, almost shyly, and looks anywhere but into her eyes.

Like he's doing right now. His reserved gaze shifts restlessly from her lips, up to her hair, then halts on her hands, resting high above her head, then back where it started. "I don't like it.. being away from you… missing you…"

With a quiet nod and a sweet smile she acknowledges his admission, words she's not returning but that she feels nevertheless. It's easy, when their professional lives cooperate, to carve out precious little moments for themselves. This trip to New York City was one of the unpleasant exceptions, though in the end they still managed to make something  _special_  out of the distance.

The tip of her nose is graced with an affectionate peck. Will returns her smile before devoting himself again to the fulfillment of his promise.

Through wet kisses and sharp nibbles, he pays homage to every inch of her body. Her breasts are a pleasurable resting place in his downward path. Her back arches and jerks under the touch of his lips, she's desperate for more, still knowing he won't let her dictate. She feels the determination in his hands, keeping her down in place, leaving her with no other choice than yielding to his tempo. Her patience though is soon rewarded, as only seconds later she can feel the warmth of his deep breath teasing her inner tights.

With unexpected tenderness, he starts to place soft, lingering kisses; from her thights, then closer and closer until he reaches her core. Her memory is certainly not failing her as she remembers him doing it several times before, however its feeling, the intensity, is quite not the same. She can't pinpoint the reason, but as she grabs hold of the sheets, twitching and shivering in spasms of pleasure, the sensation of his mouth, both honoring and setting upon the most private and perceptive part of her, is overpowering. She yields and eventually collapses under the random string of kissing-nibbling-licking-sucking repeated to a blissful exhaustion.

In the aftermath of her orgasm, the room starts spinning around her. Eyes shut, she shivers, this time in cold, but before she can blindly reach for the sheets, the more welcome heat of Will's body provides her the shelter she needs. She can feel his heart beat peacefully against her chest, such a contrast with her still galloping one. For a few long minutes, the sublime silence of their breaths and pulses is the only sound that fills the room. Forcing herself to finally open her eyes, she's gladdened by the sight of a curious smirk. His question lies unspoken in the way he seems to scan her face for hints. Her answer is equally tacit, as she smiles back, ruffles affectionately his hair, then rests her lips on his in a tender kiss.


End file.
